


where the sunflowers grow

by locomotive



Category: Produce 101 (TV), X1 (Korea Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Angst, Coming of Age, Denial of Feelings, First Love, Humor, M/M, Romantic Comedy, Separations, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-06
Updated: 2020-03-15
Packaged: 2020-10-10 11:08:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 17,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20527013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/locomotive/pseuds/locomotive
Summary: Seungwoo moves away the year Wooseok turns seventeen and just misses the sound of a heart cracking in his wake.





	1. sow a seed

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to marie for nurturing my seuncat obsession so i wouldnt have to wallow over it on my own... this is for the 5.5 seungwooseokists that exist

In biology Wooseok had learnt that sunflowers were heliotropic - they chased the sun. It’s a terrible affliction really, to love something so much only for it to be so impossibly out of reach.

Seungwoo is a little like that. He is the sun whose radiance eclipses everything else and Wooseok just  _ knows:  _ no matter how fast he runs he won’t ever be able to catch up. 

**DAEJEON, AGE 17**

It’s like even the sky’s crying today. The usual cornflower blue hue is tinged with grey, storm clouds rippling across the surface like a maelstrom lying in wait. Wooseok drags his feet along the pavement, kicking pebbles to stall for time in hopes that some benevolent God takes pity on him and an asteroid hits him right there and then. His hands tighten around the straps of his backpack, knuckles turning white at the exertion as he furiously tramples down the thoughts running wild in his head. 

Today is Seungwoo-hyung’s high school graduation -  _ or,  _ as his mind relentlessly reminds him, the day Seungwoo moves to America forever. To say he was dreading it would be an understatement. 

The thought of seeing Seungwoo receive his diploma, seeing his eyes glisten at all the opportunities now well and truly in his grasp that did not include Wooseok would somehow feel like the 2 years left between them would grow into a chasm so wide he’d wind up in an infinite freefall trying to catch him on the other side.

He really shouldn’t have agreed to go, but Seungwoo had wanted him there, a pretty pink pout adorning his lips as he tugged insistently on Wooseok’s arm with a whine. 

They were in Wooseok’s bedroom, as they most often were. Jinhyuk had just eviscerated Wooseok in a game of online Super Smash Bros while Seungwoo had been busy filling in some last minute travel documents next to him on the bed. It was painfully mundane of them, given that this was the last week they’d be spending together for a long while.

Wooseok had rolled his eyes with no real malice, smiling fondly at him before saying, ‘Hyung,  _ you’re  _ always telling me to stop whining, what are you doing acting like such a baby?’ 

Unsurprisingly, Seungwoo pouts some more. 

‘It’s only because I’m  _ most  _ comfortable with you! Only you get to see the real me!’ He singsongs, popping a corn chip into his mouth. He’s grinning that same beautiful grin he’s come to associate with the best of nature’s masterpieces, more specifically like the way dewdrops glisten on rose petals just after early April showers - it’s the very same smile Wooseok had come to adore. When Seungwoo smiles his eyes fold into half crescents. It’s warm, like sunlight, and Wooseok thinks whoever eventually got to wake up to it every morning most definitely had to have saved a country in a past life. It hurts sometimes, how he’s so irrevocably smitten with Han Seungwoo and everything that he is.

That familiar feeling bubbles up in his chest again, the pressure on his heart strings building to a crescendo, but not a second later Seungwoo lets out a childlike screech of embarrassment and buries his face against Wooseok’s thighs, fingers curling in exaggeration as he mumbles, ‘That was so cringey, my god -never again Wooseok, never again.’ 

He springs back up a little flushed before taking Wooseok’s hand in his and looking up at him with pleading doe eyes,

‘But seriously, come? I would be so happy if you did. Would my best friend, my  _ soulmate _ , the person who knows me better than anyone else in the _ world,  _ really miss my graduation?’ Seungwoo’s solitary dimple makes an appearance all cute and kind lookin’ and god he’s so beautiful Wooseok is actually in physical, life threatening pain.

And really, that’s that. 

Wooseok knows it was a cheap tactic, and by how guilty Seungwoo looks he guesses he does too. 

But even all that aside Wooseok knew he would’ve gone the moment Seungwoo had asked, because really, what else could Wooseok have done? He would have plucked the moon from its place and the stars from the sky if that’s what it took to make Seungwoo happy. 

Wooseok can’t even say he’s upset, at least, he can’t vocalize it. Seungwoo is going away on a full scholarship, a feat Wooseok wishes he had the capacity to complete. It always seemed to be like this, Seungwoo excelling, and Wooseok just trailing beside him marveling in awe. 

So here he is, en route to doomsday’s titular event. Part of him knows he’s being melodramatic, but he can’t really control it. Teenage angst hits like no other, raging hormones, raging boners and all that other pubescent fun stuff. 

To his complete and utter dismay, he eventually makes it to the school. Jinhyuk is standing by the gates looking like he’d just got done swallowing the sun for breakfast, grinning so wide it rivals the Cheshire cat as he waves at Wooseok to hurry the hell up. It’s a sharp juxtaposition to the stormy disposition he’s currently sporting, but they’d always been like yin and yang, night and day, black and white. Feng shui is a thing for a reason. 

Jinhyuk and him had been friends since pre-school, an underdeveloped sense of social danger coupled with a penchant for getting into trouble had resulted in a snack time brawl for the last tyrannosaurus shaped cookie. It had ended in tears with Jinhyuk coming out the victor, viciously punctuating his win with a particularly harsh chomp of the dinosaur head. But children, demonic as they may be, also had a rather profound sense of empathy. Jinhyuk had seen the way Wooseok was sniffling, snot caterpillars running down his bib and had a change of heart, snapping the rest of the cookie into two and tentatively handing the tail end to Wooseok. That, in retrospect, marked the beginning of a friendship that  _ would  _ stand the test of time. 

Jinhyuk tackles him into a headlock in greeting, scruffing his hair with his other hand with affection. ‘‘Wooseok, stop sulking, with the rate you’re going your handsome little face,’ he pinches his cheeks, ‘is going to stay sagged like that permanently - dunno what you’ve been reading in the magazines but looking like a droopy melting - gerund: melt _ ing _ popsicle forever? I can assure you that’s not what Cosmo meant when they called Brad Pitt a dilf.’

Wooseok sends a sharp jab at Jinhyuk’s torso, taking him by surprise as he doubles over in turn freeing him from the chokehold. He playfully shoves Jinhyuk aside and says, ‘I’m  _ not  _ sulking. I’m pondering, contemplating - ruminating  _ \-  _ so to speak,  _ and _ I haven’t been reading Cosmo! _ ’  _

Jinhyuk coughs, ‘Oh here Wooseok goes again diving head first already into his little  _ woe is me!  _ spiel! Pushing me when I’m down - that’s cruel, Seok-ah. I’m already being forced to come for my sister’s graduation and I get this kind of treatment from you too? From my self proclaimed best friend because God knows this feeling is  _ not  _ reciprocated?,’ he pauses and with an extra dramatic flourish he sighs loudly, ‘Underappreciated I tell you - underappreciated.’ 

‘Has anyone ever told you you talk a whole lot?’ Wooseok tuts as he crosses his arms, ‘And well, I’m here for you aren’t I?’ Says Wooseok, suddenly feeling a whole lot less melancholic and a whole lot more affronted. 

‘Don’t lie dude, we both know why you’re here~,’ Jinhyuk quips. There’s a small smile playing on his lips, but Wooseok notices the way it doesn’t reach his eyes. There's a sort of pity that laces his tone of voice, but it’s so subtle anyone that wasn’t Wooseok wouldn’t have caught it. But Wooseok, unfortunately, is Wooseok.

His best friend’s eyes are more like a reflection than anything else. Through them he sees an unwanted wake up call. He knows Jinhyuk doesn’t mean anything by it and it’s purely just worry but it doesn’t stop the nagging feeling from unfurling in the back of his mind.

Wooseok's always been perfectly comfortable bottling up his emotions, gift wrapping them to perfection before he stores them in a little safe in the dustiest corner of his heart and throwing away the key. He doesn’t like to talk about how he’s feeling. He prefers busying himself with as many shiny new distractions as he can find, cocooning himself until he’s so preoccupied he doesn’t have time to psychoanalyse himself. He pushes off the inevitable confrontation with so much fervor on the good days he almost forgets his problems exist. But Jinhyuk’s known him for so long he supposes to him he might as well be an open book. It’s not lost on him that he does have a friend to confide in, and he trusts him unconditionally. But his fear lies in his own inability to overcome his embarrassment. He can’t stomach how vulnerable he’d feel by admitting it out loud, because you see, he hasn’t even properly admitted it to himself. If he puts it out into the universe, it becomes tangible. He won’t be able to continue trying to outrun it like he’s been doing all this time because then it’d be  _ real. _

He isn’t a masochist, he doesn’t enjoy suffering in silence like this and maybe what he’s doing is self destructive, but his head’s so far underwater that he thinks he’d drown before he so much as thought about breaking through the surface. 

‘Are you alright?’ Jinhyuk carefully asks, not looking at anything in particular. Even he knows it’s a delicate situation. 

So, Wooseok decides to answer candidly.

He swallows tersely as he stares at the single lilac corolla that seems to grow out of the base of the brick school walls, ‘No. But it is what it is, you know?’ He doesn’t really recognize his own voice, it comes out with a little wobble all unsteady and unsure as he twists his foot into the gravel. It seems a little out of place for them to be having this kind of conversation in broad daylight and Wooseok blinks back the thick of emotion that threatens to surge up to the surface.

It’s not much, but he supposes it’s a step.

Jinhyuk heaves a sigh and gives in to Wooseok’s reluctance to speak on the topic, ‘you’ll always have me though - you know that right? Whatever your stupidly stubborn ass chooses to do, I’ll be right here, even when - I’m calling it, this ends entirely in catastrophe.’ 

‘Of course, and I am eternally grateful.’ Wooseok forces out a smile and puts both of his hands to his heart in an overly dramatic gesture of mock gratitude. He’s thankful Jinhyuk doesn’t push the topic further than he knows he wants to. 

His best friend gives him a look that says he doesn’t fully believe him, but nonetheless he puts his arms around Wooseok’s shoulder and the two of them shuffle into the auditorium where the ceremony’s about to start. 

~

The school colors hang from banners all around the space, and plastic chairs are set up in neat rows. It’s a mediocre decorating job at best in Wooseok’s opinion but he knows for a fact it’s because the whole thing was done by the lower secondary students forced into manual labor disguised as school spirit. The auditorium is still just as bleak and ominous as it is on any regular day. Maybe it’s just his mood reflecting against his judgement. The venue’s more packed than he expected it would be and Jinhyuk and him have to squeeze into the middle of the fourth row in order to be able to sit next to each other. 

It’s not long before the stage lights dim and the graduating class shuffle onto the stage one after the other, making their way to their allocated seats on the stage. They’re all dressed in the same ruddy looking robes but the smiles they’re all wearing definitely seem to make up for it. 

Wooseok’s eyes shift, scanning, searching and almost instinctively,  _ inevitably _ , falling on his Seungwoo-hyung. He’s sat in the front row of the stage, in the valedictorian's seat right next to the headmaster. He looks so devastatingly handsome that Wooseok’s breath catches in his throat. There’s an ease to which he holds himself, his broad shoulders squared in confidence and grace. Wooseok thinks about it a lot, how he’s a sack of bones and flesh in that order, gangly legs and fringes that don’t fall quite so right. He thinks about how he’s still worrying about the impending public exams whereas Seungwoo’s done so well he’s off to university in  _ America  _ on a full scholarship. He wonders what people think when they see the two of them side by side. Can’t be anything good, probably something about how mismatched they look together.

The headmaster gives a speech, some long drawn out lecture about futures and what not - if he’s being completely honest Wooseok isn’t really paying attention. It’s then followed by some alumni guest speaker that’d apparently launched a super successful startup selling air in water bottles. It’s a bit ridiculous but Wooseok does have to say he’s minorly intrigued by whatever futuristic tron-esque dystopian crap this dude’s sprouting. He almost dozes off at some point, between nudging at Jinhyuk’s feet to annoy him and twiddling his thumbs there’s not much else to do. That is, until the announcer says, 

‘And now, some final words from the valedictorian of the graduating class - Han Seungwoo.’ 

The stage lights bathe Seungwoo in a glow, shining on him so he burns bright as a solar flare and Wooseok can only stare as he sits in the shadow of a crowd. 

Seungwoo steps up to the podium, ever graceful and so full of vivacity in his graduation robes. He looks so far out of reach, so dignified and put together as he adjusts the mic to fit his height. 

He taps at the mic, once and then twice. It lets out a sharp whine and in turn he gives the crowd a sheepish grin as he flushes just the tiniest bit in embarrassment. Suddenly he looks a lot more like the Seungwoo Wooseok’s come to know - not the one that seems to be leaving him behind.

For a split second Wooseok sees the Seungwoo that’s clingy clingy  _ clingy  _ \- the guy that loves cuddles at any time of the day, any day of the week and has absolutely no concept of personal space. He’s the same guy that walks around with a mint chocolate chip ice cream cone in the dead of winter - snow storm be damned, and the guy that screens movies for any potential gore before recommending them for movie nights because he knows Wooseok can’t stand that kind of thing. Every other day he tries to befriend stray cats, and almost always sets aside the red gummy bears because he knows Wooseok only likes those ones. Even in the middle of exams he goes on spicy chicken feet runs and delivers them straight to Wooseok’s doorstep because he knows he’s been feeling stressed and they’re his favorite. He’s  _ Wooseok’s _ Seungwoo, he’s sweet and filled to the brim with goodwill and empathy, the one he’s grown to cherish throughout the years and the butterflies in his stomach remind him maybe also something a little bit more. 

‘To everyone here that I haven’t yet had the pleasure of meeting or getting to know: Hi, I’m Han Seungwoo. Thank you all for coming to celebrate this special occasion with us!

First off, I’d like to thank my family: my mom, my dad, my aunt and my two sisters. I love you! Thank you for taking care of me and for coming down all the way from Busan to see me today! 

My time at this school has been the best of my life. I’m a firm believer in the idea that people are what make a place, and this institution no doubt sets the bar so far up high it’s on a plane of its own. It’s because of them that I’m able to be the person I am today. Kinda cliché, I know, but it’s one because it’s true I suppose.

Growing up I had a lot of doubts, I kept trying to find a sort of perfection that I couldn’t seem to find in myself and it was really hard to accept other people’s words of encouragement, their compliments or even just their smiles. I shouldered a lot of hurt and was only ever critical of myself. I could be in a room full of people and still feel like the loneliest person in the world because I didn’t feel like I could trust anyone. 

But what I’ve learnt along the way is that you have to allow yourself to be loved by those that do, and I’m so so so grateful to have found  _ people  _ like that here for me.’ 

Wooseok could swear Seungwoo was looking directly at him, his gaze piercing through the stage lights and straight into him as he feels goosebumps form along his arms. The look in his eyes is overwhelming, too warm, too much all at once. But where his heart lacks logic his mind brushes it off, attributing it to his  _ Seungwoo senses _ acting up -  _ faulty, _ yet again. It’s impossible, there was so many people here he couldn’t have found him - there’s just no way right? Even as much as he wishes it were true. 

‘To finally be able to meet someone that embraced my immaturity, my flaws and basically just everything about me - it really puts things into perspective. It’s the kind of feeling that sneaks up on you, slowly and surely - at first in increment doses until eventually it cocoons you from the top of your head to the tips of your toes and you realize it’s something you can’t live without. I wake up in the morning looking forward to my day because I already know without a shadow of a doubt it'll be better than the last because of the people in it. It’s the simple things like just asking each other how our day went or how we did on this test or that. It’s the laughter in the halls and the sportsman ship during inter-school competitions. It sounds so ridiculous but what I treasure the most is that we were and still are able to understand each other when it comes to the little things. Slowly but surely we got used to being around each other. These days I’ve been happy with the small changes because it meant I got to grow and learn new things with all of you - and it’s peaceful, comforting even. I wish I could stay here with you forever. 

I’m the luckiest person in the world. Because you were with me through the darker times. Regretfully, sometimes I took it for granted. It’s funny you know? How sometimes you don’t recognize that the best thing has been right under your nose the whole entire time.’ A wry smile as the corners of Seungwoo’s lips lift slightly,

‘Inertia of the mind is a dangerous thing. But I’ve understood the feelings that I’ve fostered here will remain perfectly as they were - good, true and unchanging. Wherever I am, whatever I go on to do, I will honestly,  _ sincerely,  _ guard them for the rest of my life. I think about it a lot in moments of hindsight, how there are a multitude of ways I could’ve been less selfish, more thoughtful, and given parts of myself out more freely. So, on graduation day, I think I’m going to make it a point that I make do on promises I made to myself to treat people the way they deserve to be treated - better, with more love and more consideration so I can give back just as much as they’ve given me.

Choosing who to surround yourself with is probably one of the most important decisions we will ever make, and the wrong one can color our lives in grey. 

Meeting you all has brought glorious technicolor to my life. Thank you for growing together with me. For accepting me for who I am, and never forgetting to knock me down a peg when I’m in over my head.

Of course,  _ specifically _ , you know who you are! 

Thank you for appearing in my life and becoming a part of my youth. 

I think it was because of all the love I received here that I was able to spread my little wings and soar so far up I finally reached my dreams, no matter how high up in the clouds they always seemed to be. 

Finally, as this wouldn’t be a speech without one; famously, as quotes usually are, Charles Dickens once said:  _ The pain of parting is nothing compared to the joy of meeting again. _

Thank you for all the memories we’ve been able to make here that have helped shape who we’ve all become. I doubt any of us will be forgetting it any time soon and I hope you all get to achieve everything you’ve ever dreamed of and more.’ 

The applause is deafening but Wooseok can’t hear much past the ringing in his ears from his thoughts screaming at him that maybe,  _ just maybe _ there’s the tiniest possibility that Seungwoo was talking to  _ him _ . 

~

Jinhyuk is dragged away by the ear as soon as the ceremony ends, his arms flailing in pain as he gives in to his mother’s request for a family photo. 

For a brief couple of minutes Wooseok just stands there awkwardly with his hands in his pockets not quite knowing what to do. 

It’s not long though, before Seungwoo sees Wooseok and a smile spreads across his face as he pushes through the small crowd that had gathered around him to reach Wooseok. 

‘You came.’ He exhales, unconcealed mirth dancing in his irises. He looks so good today, especially up close. He must be doing it on purpose - a single minded agenda to shoot another arrow into Wooseok’s already mortally wounded lovestruck heart.

‘As if I would really miss it.’ Wooseok scoffs before adding, ‘plus, Jinhyuk probably wouldn’t have made it through the entire ceremony without me.’ His heart is hammering in his chest, it’s so loud he can hear it ringing in his ears. ‘Congratulations, Snoo-Hyung.’ Wooseok feels his ears heat up a little at the term of endearment, and he can’t even imagine how red they must be. 

And like clockwork, there it is again - dewdrops on rose petals.

Seungwoo pulls him into a hug, nothing too intimate but he still manages to bury his face into Wooseok’s neck before mumbling out a soft  _ thank you  _ against his skin. Wooseok can only hope that Seungwoo doesn’t feel the way a shiver runs down his spine. Wooseok lets himself sink deeper into the hug with a sigh, bones liquifying to jelly in his hold and wanting to commit it to memory and imprint it into his senses for all of eternity. As always, Seungwoo doesn’t complain, he just lets him, simply running his palms down the length of Wooseok’s arms till he’s holding his hands in his own. Having Seungwoo so close just reminds him of how soon he has to go, of how in a couple hours Seungwoo will be on a train to Busan and then straight to Connecticut. It reminds him that this might be the last time he ever sees him. 

But, he tries to reason with himself, phones are a thing, they can text, call and even video chat daily. That doesn’t stop a traitorous voice in the back of his mind from telling him it’ll never be the same.

‘Wooseok,’ starts Seungwoo, the way he says his name is sickly sweet like peach soju and gumdrops rolled in sugar - if he’s being honest Wooseok is a little drunk on the feeling, ‘Do you have anywhere to be today?’ Seungwoo asks. He’s biting onto his lip and rubbing circles into the palm of Wooseok’s hand with his thumb. He looks almost bashful with his bangs just shy of the tops of his eyes and the way his large frame is slouched towards Wooseok. 

‘No,’ says Wooseok, ‘I saved the day just for you.’ 

And the smile that appears is so wide it almost splits Seungwoo’s face in two. 

‘Perfect.’ Says Seungwoo, ‘cuz I saved mine for you.’ He wears this strange flicker of a grin on his face as he leans in and Wooseok thinks it’s a little too close, a little too intense for Wooseok’s poor wasted heart. 

‘Wait, the whole day? Don’t you have other people you have to see too?’ Asks Wooseok.

‘Probably. But they’re not you so…...’ Seungwoo trails off shyly, his solitary dimple leaving the cutest indentation on one side of his cheeks. Internally Wooseok is running through a mental checklist. Palpitations. Check. Arrhythmia. Check. Cardiac arrest. Oops! Seems to be fatal. Cause of death: Han Seungwoo. 

Wooseok could cry - he might just. It’s a little silly how he feels so winded at the thought of Seungwoo brushing everyone else to the side just so he could spend his last day with him, and he knows all too well just how high in demand Seungwoo was with almost everyone in his year and below. Afterall, it was impossible to dislike him. 

‘Your family won’t miss you?’ 

‘Please,’ scoffs Seungwoo, ‘they’re coming with me, they’re going to be the only people I see for a  _ while. _ ’ Seungwoo’s almost bouncing in place and Wooseok suddenly feels stuffy, like he’s been doused in liquid amber sunlight, bottled in the form of happiness and perhaps some excitability that’s rolling off Seungwoo’s form in waves. 

“I want to take you somewhere. Is that alright?’ Seungwoo asks, tugging at their still joined hands. 

And sweet, sweet Wooseok, a helpless fool for Han Seungwoo can only nod, because really, he’d follow him to the four corners of the universe if Seungwoo had wanted him to. 

~

Seungwoo’s car is an old dark blue Toyota Corolla, it’s not exactly the most glamorous of cars but being the baby of the family, he hadn’t had a choice really. It’d been handed down to him from his eldest sister. The engine’s a little rusty and every attempt to start it up is like a stab in the dark at winning the lottery, sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. Fortunately for them, today was one of the good days.

Surprisingly the sky had cleared up and the sun had found its way out from behind the clouds.

Wooseok is sitting shotgun as he fiddles with the outdated radio system, poking at random buttons with frayed labels, hoping he gets lucky and hits the right one. He apparently does, because soon after the soothing voice of Heize filters through the speakers and fills the car. 

Seungwoo has the windows rolled down and the midsummer heat trickles in sticky and uncomfortable because *surprise surprise* Seungwoo’s prehistoric caveman vehicle has a busted a/c. Wooseok isn’t complaining though, he enjoys watching Seungwoo drive - for completely innocent, PG-13 Disney Channel Original Movie reasons of course. It’s  _ not,  _ and he repeats  _ absolutely not  _ because Seungwoo’s side profile was chiseled out by Michaelangelo himself in the likeness of David, but like asian David, six foot tall David and most importantly  _ clothed _ David. Nor is it because the image of Seungwo’s jaw setting in concentration, the veins in his arms protruding as his nimble fingers command the steering wheel single handedly the most attractive thing Wooseok has ever feasted his eyes upon. However, Wooseok digresses, even if it were, which it’s  _ not,  _ his conscience is forced to clarify, art is meant to be appreciated is it not? 

The midday sun is golden as the light clings to Seungwoo’s skin and Wooseok briefly wonders if beauty had existed prior to Seungwoo. He finds it impossible to look away. Edward Cullen: Undead vegetarian disco ball, Han Seungwoo: Reincarnation of Apollo on Earth, God among men. 

Seungwoo:1

Edward: 0

‘Okay, Han Seungwoo,’ Wooseok starts, ‘give it up, you wear  _ highlighter  _ don’t you? How do you do it? How do you look so sparkly all the time? It’s getting real ridiculous. I want it too.’ 

Seungwoo that perfect man blessed with superhuman genes has the audacity to laugh in his face, ‘What highlighter? What are you even talking about, Wooseok?’ 

He can’t tell if it’s by fate or by design that in that exact moment a ray of light chooses to refract off the black of Seungwoo’s hair, illuminating his entire head in some incandescent light ring halo of sorts. 

Wooseok can only groan as he slumps back against the headrest with unnecessary force. ‘Nevermind.’ He mumbles in obvious discontentment. 

Seungwoo only hums in acknowledgement, his token smile spread thinly across his lips as he adjusts the rearview mirror.

~

It’s not long before Wooseok gets slightly restless, bristling at having already been in the car for over a half hour and he whines, ‘Seungwoo-hyung, where are you even taking me? You’re not taking me to a clearing to murder me right, because I’m too young and too pretty to die.’ 

There’s a stoplight straight up ahead. Seungwoo purses his lips and reaches into the glove department with one hand to produce a bag of banana kick chips before throwing it in Wooseok’s general direction. 

Perks of having been forced to deal with Wooseok’s whining for so many years - of course Seungwoo would know all it took to get Wooseok to stop complaining was food. 

_ ‘Wooseok _ , you trust me right _ ?’  _ Seungwoo asks. The way Seungwoo says his name is syrupy sweet and Wooseok worries that this dizziness he’s feeling is an indication he should probably check his blood sugar levels. God this is no fair, Wooseok is putty. All the poets and the romantics had never prepared him for one Han Seungwoo. 

The memory is a little frayed around the edges, the corners curling upwards with wear but he’s taken back to when he was nine, both hands placed firmly on the first rung of the monkey bars as he stands on the ledge ready to push off. At the time it had looked so high up, but it’s the same gentle smiling voice that echoes to the side of him,

‘ _ Trust me, Wooseok, it’ll be fun. Even if you do fall - which you won’t, I'll be right here to catch you okay?’  _

It’s a somber sense of dejavu, they’ve aged but their mannerisms and their dispositions somehow seem to remain the same. He’s still the little boy that needs the reassurance of the one person he looks up to the most.

‘Are you giving me a reason not to?’ Wooseok asks, nudging present day Seungwoo with his elbow, as he opens the bag of chips. He hopes it comes across as playful but he knows full well there’s an edge to the question, part of him wondering genuinely if he has something to be worried about.

‘No.’ Says Seungwoo, ‘so stop asking so many questions, you’ll know when we get there.’ 

The rest of the car ride is relatively quiet, with Wooseok filling the silence with random anecdotes from time to time and Seungwoo giggling when the time calls for it. Wooseok sends a quick text to Jinhyuk and his parents at some point too, letting them know where he was and when he was going to be back home. 

It’s not long after that when the brick-laden cityscape fades into lush greenery, the previously narrow strip of sky peeking out from the gaps between skyscrapers now stretch far past the expanse visible to the human eye. 

‘We’re here!’ Seungwoo exclaims as he parks the car. 

The smell of summer and fresh open air immediately assaults Wooseok’s senses as he steps out of the car and he lets out an audible gasp as the view before him. 

Seungwoo must be pleased with Wooseok’s reaction because he lets out a small, smug grin, ‘Told you to trust me.’

And really Wooseok isn’t even paying that much attention to what Seungwoo is saying because what he’s seeing doesn’t leave much room for words, it’s too breathtaking. From where he stands on a cliff edge, Wooseok has a complete view of the city he grew up in, he sees the highrises lit with neon signs, the jimjibang where he’d had his first ‘unofficial’ sleepover with Seungwoo and the outline of their favorite market they frequented every Tuesday afternoon for the city’s best ddeokbokki. But the main attraction? It’s that from all the way up here the sky seems bluer than it’s ever been, the clouds seem thicker, pillowy like marshmallows and the wildflowers that surround them make him feel like a woodland creature. It’s the beauty of nature in action and Wooseok finds that he’s itching to pull out his canvas and paint, wanting to capture it for himself exactly as he interprets it- to always have a little piece of sky, a little piece of Seungwoo and their last day together in the corner of his room. 

‘I found this place a while ago when I went on a hike with Sunhwa, I’d always meant to take you here…’ Seungwoo trails off, ‘ but I guess it was never appropriate until now. I wanted to show you this place before I had to go.’ Seungwoo rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet as if he were nervous, ‘I know you’ve always liked drawing landscapes the most and when I saw this place I just knew you would love it. It’s really pretty isn’t it?’ 

Wooseok is touched. There’s really no other way to put it. He’d expected on Seungwoo’s last day in Daejeon they’d go off to do something he’d want to do. Wooseok had been ready to go for a jog, even to the gym. Instead, here they were, at a special place Seungwoo bookmarked just for Wooseok. He can’t help but conjure up the image of Seungwoo deciding to take him here, as delusional as it seems, and he bites his lip to hold back the smile that threatens to burst through to his lips.

In the back of his mind he lets himself imagine a hypothetical, one in which Seungwoo didn’t have to leave, one where they lie there side by side, hand in hand without a deadline or a care in the world, soaking in the sun and just enjoying each other’s company. Wooseok lets himself settle for these scraps of Ersatz desire, lets himself have his fill before pinching himself back to reality because this is all he tells himself he’s allowed to have. Maybe, just maybe in that world, perhaps they could be something more than just best friends. He nips that fantasy in the bud before it can blossom into a full blown thought. He’s not allowed to think like that. 

‘It’s one of the prettiest things I’ve ever seen, Seungwoo.’ Wooseok hears the shakiness in his own voice, he doesn’t trust it right now. ‘Thank you for this.’ 

Seungwoo’s smile in return is comforting, it’s the one he knows all too well. Seungwoo moves to sit on the patch of grass just by the cliff and pats the ground in a motion for Wooseok to come sit right next to him. 

He does. 

Wooseok pretends not to notice when Seungwoo seemingly deliberately presses their knees closer together. It’s just another gesture of affection - it’s what Seungwoo does, it’s how he is.

Wooseok sneaks a quick glance at Seungwoo, and it’s not a far cry to say that in this moment he knows without a shadow of a doubt that Seungwoo is undeniably happy. Golden hour daylight is a good look on him, his eyes seem to glimmer infinitely brighter and his beautiful porcelain skin shines like ivory.

He hasn’t seen this Seungwoo for a while now, he’d been bogged down by final exams and graduation preparation. Last minute essays for university applications and the valedictorian speech to write. On top of all of that, it’s pressure from friends and family to live up to his publically perfect persona, but Wooseok knows on the inside it’s been eating him alive. He wants to tell Seungwoo that it’s alright, it’s okay to struggle, he can let loose a little, live his life - simply  _ be  _ nineteen. But the expectations that have piled up on him throughout the years have left him very little breathing room. Even in all the claustrophobia though, he’s always made it a point to make time for Wooseok. 

Wooseok could tell him right now how he feels, and part of him almost wants to. But what he wants Seungwoo to have more than anything else is a day of peace, a lazy afternoon soaking up the sun, unfurling petals of stress like sunflowers. So why should, why  _ would _ Wooseok be selfish and ruin it for him with something as trivial as his own unreciprocated emotions? 

It’s almost mechanical, the way puts his feelings back in the little box they belong in and deadbolts the door, once again throwing the key into the farthest depths of his mind.

Soon, they settle back into their usual camaraderie and Wooseok is so thankful for how easy their relationship has always been. 

‘You’re now officially a high school graduate, and for all intents and purposes an  _ adult _ ! All grown and ready to take on the corporate world! Two steps from full out taxes and mortgages!’ Wooseok scrunches his nose in distaste. ‘Congratulations on graduating but a very  _ not  _ congratulations on adulting full time now -  _ hag! _ ’ Teases Wooseok, sticking his tongue out cheekily. 

Seungwoo chuckles and Wooseok thinks he hears windchimes. Would it be creepy if he snuck a recording and made it his ringtone? It’s not like Seungwoo would be around anymore to hear it. 

‘Ha, ha, ha, you’re so funny! Don’t get too carried away, Wooseokie - this will be you in two years.’ Seungwoo sighs, ‘hurry up and catch up to me, yeah? Gonna need someone to play bingo with me and heckle at the pigeons outside the old folks home - and,’ Seungwoo’s voice goes higher suddenly, nasally like when he tries to act cute  _ ironically _ (re: he claims; as if that’s even possible) and his held falls onto Wooseok’s shoulder as he pushes his face into his jacket, ‘what better than for it to be my favorite person in the whole wide world?’ 

It doesn’t work. Seungwoo being cute will never be ironic because he’s categorically the cutest thing in the entire universe - cosmos and beyond, maybe even in the quantum realm, effectively making it the most devastating kind of counterintuitive, for Wooseok of course. 

Han Seungwoo is six and a half feet tall, shoulders as broad as the Pacific Ocean (sea life included) and could probably bench press the entire graduating class all at once but he acts tiny, talks exclusively in small font and has the personality of a yappy maltese. It shouldn’t come as a surprise that Kim Wooseok is a living, breathing, pining lovestruck latent disaster on two legs. 

‘I mean, I think I’d kill it in the retirement home, hyung,’ Wooseok winces to himself and falters at how that sounds, ‘but like not literally you know? Because that would be bad. Metaphorically  _ kill it _ I mean.’  _ Slick, Wooseok.  _ But it’s too late so he steamrolls on pretending to be brazen, ‘Them pacemakers ain’t  _ ready _ for me. Have you seen my face?’ Jokes Wooseok, twisting his head so he’s looking down at Seungwoo resting on his shoulder. 

He expects Seungwoo to just run with it, maybe join in on the banter, but Seungwoo chooses this exact moment to look up. 

Proximity, thinks Wooseok, is at this point probably synonymous with Seungwoo. He doesn’t have to check a dictionary to confirm this, he knows this all too well. 

For as long as he can remember Seungwoo had been no stranger to skinship and Wooseok had never minded, but something about the way he sees stars glitter in the black onyx of Seungwoo’s pupils sets off alarm bells and his heart starts beating erratically, the speed of blood pumping in and out multiplying tenfold as he hears his pulse thrashing wildly in his ears. 

‘I have.’ Replies Seungwoo, tone far too somber for how the sunlight hits the beautiful contours of his face, ‘and you’re right, you’ve always been the most beautiful.’ He says it softly, and it takes Wooseok by surprise, so much so he sucks in his breath sharply. 

He said  _ beautiful _ , not  _ pretty,  _ because that’s the kind of specifics seventeen year olds care about after having read one two many tumblr blog posts.

Wooseok has to look away, suddenly finding his fingers infinitely more interesting, it hurts like how it does to look a little too long into the sun. He’s never been in this situation before and the intimacy is scaring him. He doesn’t want to let himself hope for something he knows to be impossible. 

With the way Seungwoo’s eyes ooze honey and devastating genuity amongst other things, for once the almighty smooth-talker-a-mile-a-minute™ Kim Wooseok is at a loss for words. His palms are starting to sweat and every pathetic cell in his body is ready to wave their white flags in surrender. It’s a complete and utter defeat and he is left entirely defenseless at the mercy of Han Seungwoo. But the worst part? He has absolutely no idea.

He’s sure his cheeks are as red as apples if the heat blooming in his cheeks is any indication. He chews on his bottom lip and tries to hide his smile like an idiot as he resigns to looking anywhere but at the perpetrator in question. The crime? Grand larceny of Wooseok’s thoughts, free will and while he’s at it, why not throw in the entirety of his heart? 

Seungwoo sees this of course, nothing seems to ever escape him. 

“Aww, are you blushing? You’re blushing aren’t you?’ Seungwoo teases, reaching up to poke a finger at Wooseok’s cheeks, ‘My little Wooseokie is the cutest in the whole wide world,’ Seungwoo singsongs, tongue-in-cheek as he reaches over to ruffle Wooseok’s hair. Wooseok fakes an attempt to swat away his hand, obviously with no real intention to actually push him away. Seungwoo’s smile is warm, loving and Wooseok’s heart clenches painfully wondering when he’ll be able to see it again.

It’s moments like these where he thinks Seungwoo is like water color, seeping into every inch of Wooseok’s being and painting him throughout the years with palettes of autumn and spring, thick strokes of boundless affection and thin brushes of never ending laughter - a masterpiece crafted so intricately even the greats would fail to do it justice. 

But wherever there is water, there is someone drowning. 

Wooseok thinks he’s dangerous. Han Seungwoo should come with a warning.

‘ **DO NOT OPEN’** in ugly attention-stealing red, ‘ _ might break someone’s heart.’  _

(Read: In this case said heart is Wooseok’s. Furthermore, it’s not just broken, perhaps it’s in smithereens - and maybe, just maybe, Seungwoo did come with a warning - a slow buildup of a faint pressure in the back of his mind, then a sharp stab to his chest, followed by a left hook to his aorta finally replaced by a constant ache running along every nerve ending in his heart. Wooseok just chooses to ignore it. Like an idiot. But who is surprised?) 

‘You decided what you want to do yet?’ Asks Wooseok quickly, changing the topic to try and salvage whatever little bit of his dignity that is left over, ‘in school?’

Seungwoo sighs, ‘For now I think I’m just going to go into my first year undeclared, probably finish all my graduation prerequisite classes and get those out of the way. My parents want me to become some kind of specialist, like a doctor or a lawyer and I mean yeah, I might have the grades for it but I don’t know how to tell them that’s not what I want to do. I suppose I’ll just cross that bridge when I get to it right?’ 

‘Hyung, I didn’t ask what your parents want you to do, I asked what  _ you  _ wanted to do.’ Says Wooseok, wondering if he should’ve put it less bluntly. He knows Mr and Mrs Han only have Seungwoo’s best interests in mind, but frankly he’s rather upset they’ve already gone and decided what career path Seungwoo had to pursue. 

At first, Seungwoo’s features settle into a bit of a frown, but the harsh lines soon smoothen out into a look of steady resolution as he says, ‘I want to be a teacher. I think it’s because I understand you know? These days there’s so much pressure on children to do well in school, to get a good job - did you know there are even waitlists for two year old tutorial groups? I want to help kids realize that their potential isn’t just dependent on the grade they get on a math test and that they won’t get branded forever by a single F on an english essay. I want to show them that there’s more to the world than blackboards and powerpoint slides. I want to help them find the ability to pursue what they’re most passionate about, because that’s what matters the most. I’d be really happy if I could do that for them, you know? For the kids. They’re our future, why should we trap them in a job they don’t love? For the sake of what?’ Seungwoo looks up and Wooseok registers the surprise in them, followed by a twinge of guilt, as if he’s talked a little too much.

But he hadn’t. What Seungwoo had said had just made Wooseok fall a little deeper, a little deeper in the big daunting ‘L’ word that must not be named. Seungwoo had always had his own kind of philosophy - he bled open and honest, what you see is what you get, abstract art  _ cum laude -  _ Rothko’s complementary colors and Pollock’s kaleidoscope paint splatters. There wasn’t a single soul he couldn’t color with his kindness and his compassion. He lived in rose tinted idealism, while Wooseok was still trying to swim his way out of the dark nihilistic void he’d somehow unknowingly fallen into. Han Seungwoo was a force for morality in this miserably cold world, he was far too good, far too true, especially for Wooseok, and everyone knew it.

He thinks, while yes, Seungwoo is stunning in every sense of the world and his looks most definitely seem to have been crafted from marble, the most beautiful thing about him is his heart. It was truly a spectacle to behold because he had so much to  _ give. _ Most people don’t bother getting to know the person behind the face and Wooseok thinks that’s the greatest miscalculation of all. 

‘Sorry, I’m rambling again,’ mutters Seungwoo sheepishly as he scratches the back of his head in embarrassment, ‘I didn’t mean to…’ 

Wooseok’s smile is genuine when he says, ‘You’re going to be wonderful, Seungwoo. Don’t worry about your parents yet for now because they love you and all they want is for you to be happy. Once they see how determined you are to do this, they’ll understand.’ He doesn’t even care that he interrupted Seungwoo mid-sentence, ‘You’re going to save the world one kid at a time, I just know it. I believe in it, and you, of course.’ He pours every ounce of affection he can muster into the smile he sends Seungwoo’s way and he hopes it carries his point across. That Seungwoo can do anything, because he deserves everything. Wooseok places his hand on Seungwoo’s forearm and squeezes gently in reassurance. He ignores the sparks he almost certainly feels when his fingers meet flesh. 

It must take Seungwoo aback because the way he’s looking at Wooseok right now definitely isn’t what he had expected but it makes him feel funny - in a good way. 

There was a time when Wooseok was confident he could read every quirk of the lip every facial tic and discern everything that Seungwoo was thinking but now he was drawing up a blank. He sees a dozen emotions flicker back and forth against Seungwoo’s features all at once, all in conflict with one another. Until, finally, what remains, Wooseok guesses, is a look of trepidation and the tiniest hint of loss. 

Seungwoo shakes his head gently as if he’s in deep contemplation. About what, Wooseok has no idea. ‘Hey Wooseokie,’ Seungwoo starts refusing to look him in the eye. It sounds as if it pains him to continue what he’s about to say, ‘I hope that when I’m gone, you’ll be able to put yourself out there. I know it’s going to be a change that’s going to take some getting used to, so if it’s easier for you, I want you to put me out of your mind. Don’t think too much like I know you have the tendency to do and take care of yourself - for me, please.’ Wooseok watches Seungwoo’s throat bob up and down as he swallows thickly.

‘Before I go, just promise me this alright? Live your life, and just,’ there’s a stilted pause and something unreadable that mars the gentle features of Seungwoo’s face. Wooseok watches the way his hyung’s chest rises and falls wondering just what could be troubling him so much and wanting to will it for himself instead.

The horizon looks as if its been filled in with watercolor, they’ve been sitting together for so long that without knowing it’d already become dusk. Violet seeps into tangerine orange as the sun slinks behind the mountains and day fades to night. Wooseok briefly wonders if this is some kind of predilection of whatever’s to come of the two of them.

A beat and Seungwoo whispers a staccatoed stutter into the night breeze, ‘‘be happy. Okay, Wooseok?’ It’s almost desperate, pleading and Wooseok can’t do anything but nod. He chokes back his tears, gritting his teeth in determination. He will not let Seungwoo see him cry. 

_ You can’t break up if you were never together.  _ But then why does it feel so much like that?

It’s annoying how as much as he tries to hold in how he feels, the people that matter all seem to know exactly what’s going on in his mind. When Wooseok is silent for an extra nanosecond too long, he immediately knows he’s slipped up. Seungwoo turns his whole body to face Wooseok, startling a little bit when he sees the way Wooseok is sniffling silently, 

‘Hey, hey, Wooseok? Are you crying? No crying alright? I-,’ Seungwoo stutters, ‘I didn’t mean to make you cry!’ He pauses again, looking horrified and not knowing what to do, ‘Happy thoughts, okay? Happy thoughts.’ 

‘You idiot, you didn’t make me cry.’ Wooseok mumbles, grabbing Seungwoo’s wrist and keeping him close when he attempts to shift away, maybe to give him space or whatever noble knightly chivalry crap Seungwoo’s so accustomed to doing. 

Seungwoo still looks concerned, asking as hesitantly as possible as his eyes flicker back and forth trying to read Wooseok’s expression in case he starts crying again, ‘Are you okay?’ 

‘I’m fine,’ Wooseok says, ‘It’s...it’s just my contacts. They’re dry and it’s scratching my eyes.’ He does a smile, hoping in vain he’s a good enough actor to fool Seungwoo. 

Seungwoo doesn’t look like he believes him, which Wooseok figured going into it, but he knows Seungwoo will respect that he doesn’t want to talk about it and not probe any further. 

The truth is, he’s not fine at all. He’s been asked this question twice today which is two too many times by both the only two people he could never convincingly lie to. He’s tired. 

The truth is he feels like throwing up, like someone’s taken a jackhammer to every inch of his bones, and he’s being forced to relearn how to glue himself back together again. But, he couldn’t very well say that out loud now could he? Seungwoo was off to do something amazing, what good would it be to tell him now? 

There’s a blanket of silence that settles over them for an odd minute or so as Wooseok collects his emotions that seem to be spilling out all over the place. No one speaks and the only sound heard is the distant honking of the city’s endless traffic.

But like always, Seungwoo fills the gaps in between them. He always knows exactly what to do. The smile he releases into the world is just as beautiful as the first time Wooseok sees it and suddenly all is right again. ‘Those crappy contact lenses - probably should give them a talking to huh? For making my Wooseokie cry.’ 

It shouldn’t work on him, it’s the cheesiest line in the book, lesson  _ one _ in charm school, and yet, because it’s Seungwoo, it does. Seungwoo says jump, he says how high, Seungwoo tells him to be happy? Well, he supposes he has no choice but to be happy then, right? 

Wooseok snorts as he suppresses a smile, ‘Eh, we’ll let them be. They look better than my glasses anyway.’ 

‘Better? Impossible.’ Seungwoo quips, not missing a beat, ‘Maybe you should wear your glasses more.’ 

‘You have a glasses kink or something?’ Teases Wooseok easily as he pulls at pieces of grass. 

‘Shut up, it’s not that,’ Seungwoo shakes his head in disbelief, ‘it’s just you.’ Seungwoo’s cheeks tint with red, ‘because you’re pretty in the first place, you just make everything look nice.’ 

Wooseok doesn’t know if it was intentional but that really  _ does  _ shut him up real fast. He can’t fight the feeling in his stomach that comes back at full force. He thinks his heart swells a couple sizes bigger - if that’s even scientifically possible. (Factually, it’s not, but it sure does feel like it.)

‘I don’t,’ argues Wooseok just for the sake of arguing, ‘tell that to me after I’ve had two whole packs of ramen the night before bed and wake up looking like a blowfish’s doppleg ä nger, or how about the time in fifth grade when I had pink eye and had to walk around looking like the pirate from Spongebob?’ 

Seungwoo doesn’t miss a beat as he giggles softly, ‘even then, Wooseok, even then.’ 

Seungwoo makes it hard to stay rational when his mind seems to permanently be going every which way at everything that comes out of his mouth. He looks up and Seungwoo is already looking at him. He wishes he could say their eyes locked and a pyrotechnic extravaganza erupted in the sky - perhaps a sign from God that their happy ever after was coming up real soon. But there was no such thing. Seungwoo reaches for his hand, interlocking their fingers and placing it on his lap. His grip is warm, safe, it feels like coming home and Wooseok thinks that’s even more than he’s allowed to hope for. 

‘Hyung?’ says Wooseok, not having the strength to see the way Seungwoo looks right now or the expression on his face, ‘I’m going to miss you.’ 

As soon as the words leave his mouth Seungwoo pulls Wooseok into a tight hug and he’s immediately enveloped in a blanket of warmth. He thinks this might just be one of the things he’ll miss the most. 

‘Come here, Wooseokie,’ says Seungwoo, angling his head to hook his chin behind the curve of where Wooseok’s shoulder meets his neck before pressing the softest, cruelest kiss against his skin. ‘Not as much as I’ll miss you. I promise you.’ He whispers into his neck, and Wooseok doesn’t even pretend to keep up his facade any longer as he practically melts into the hug. Seungwoo is his sun, and he is so lucky to have fallen in his orbit. 

‘You’re silly,’ breathes Wooseok, ‘it’s not a competition. There’s nothing to win.’ He deliberately leaves out the fact that if it were one Wooseok had already lost long ago, his heart signed sealed and delivered straight to Han Seungwoo’s doorstep from the ripe young age of as far back as he can remember.

Hugs with Seungwoo were as natural as muscle memory, and Wooseok loves the feeling of being held as if he were the most precious thing in the world, their bodies intricately folding into one another like origami paper cranes. Where Wooseok’s mind had already begun to lock away to spare himself from the heartbreak, his body remembers. His eyes close as he relishes the moment, a mosaic of the before flitting like grainy vignettes against the backs of his eyelids, the bygone years running along the green meadows and the cerulean blue of the ocean, all the way to the golden yellow grains of sand under their special beach boardwalk.

He thinks to himself, I can do this, I’ll be fine. 

Little did he know, how impossible it would be and how much it would hurt him to even try. Knowing Seungwoo, spending time with Seungwoo,  _ loving _ Seungwoo - everything they’ve shared for the past nine years; only to be expected to not think about it at all? It was like a series of ticking time bombs laying waste to his heart in one massacre after another. And he tries, tries to the best of his ability to cut out shrapnel in the form of heart shaped smiles and stifle the sound of honey toned laughter ricocheting off the insides of his skull, but Seungwoo is lodged so deep in every single one of his main arteries and every fiber of his being he can’t help but think to try and forget Seungwoo - Seungwoo who was a permanent fixture in all the happiest of Wooseok’s memories since the day he waltzed into his life and staked his ownership, would be a fate far worse than dying. So Wooseok can do nothing but let himself bleed out, patching wounds with temporary bandaids of ignorance and self deception. Wooseok tells himself, ‘You’re seventeen, stop being a baby. Seungwoo isn’t dying. You’ll see him again.’ 

~

After Seungwoo leaves, Wooseok can’t tell you how many times his finger hovers over the paper airplane icon, the minuscule three words that have haunted his dreams blinking back up at him innocently, the same eight letters that carry the weight of his heart.

_ I love you. _

He never finds it in him to send it. 

It’s radio silence for the next four years.

  
  


─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───


	2. chase the sun

**BUSAN, AGE 19**

It smells like lemon disinfectant and bleach. There’s a paper cup of burnt coffee in his hands and the low hum of the television in the corner of the room sounds like crisp static to his ears. It’s so loud. The machines won’t stop beeping. 

_ It was supposed to be a routine checkup.  _

‘Sweetheart, we’ll figure it out alright? You have to go, your flight is tomorrow.’ 

‘Mom, I can’t just leave now, not with you like this. How could I ever live with myself knowing I just  _ left?  _ I’ve decided and I’m not going.’ 

‘Seungwoo, you’ll miss your scholarship if you don’t go now. You can’t do this, please. Your dad and I will figure something out, we’ll handle it.’ 

‘Do you even hear yourself? I’m not going to just watch you die while I’m all the way on another continent! I’m not going okay? I’m staying, I’m getting a job, we  _ will  _ afford this and you will get better.’ 

He’s desperate, ‘You  _ have  _ to. _ ’ _

_ I can’t lose another person I love.  _ His mind selfishly supplies.  _ I don’t think I’d survive it. _

**DAEJEON, AGE 9**

His grandma is standing in front of the stove stirring a pot of soup and Wooseok is sitting next to her impatiently tugging at her edge of her blouse. 

‘Hey, hey, grandma did you know Seungwoo-hyung won this gigantic teddy bear last weekend? He promised me he’d take me to the arcade today so I could try it out for myself!’ 

‘Sweetheart, who is this Seungwoo? You keep talking about him, it’s like the tenth time in the past hour,’ chuckles his grandma, ‘do you even realize?’ 

At 9, there’s not much to comprehend, no formal concepts to be learned - thoughts rarely extend beyond what’s for breakfast, lunch and dinner - rinse and repeat. But at that moment, Wooseok thinks, is when the revelation hits him, a wash of clarity, a moment of impact. An  _ oh, _ is this what it feels like? To have a best friend? 

‘He’s just a person -  _ my _ person,’ Wooseok clarifies, possessive in the way children get. ‘A best friend, my best friend. My Seungwoo.’  _ My _ Seungwoo. At 9, it was the only logical synonym his mind could make, really. A correct progression that just sounded obvious in the way things are infinitely more simple when you’re young. ‘And- he’s a very nice hyung that buys me ice cream and bandages up my knees when I fall over on the playground - he’s also super cool, he’s two years older than me but he says I don’t have to call him hyung. He’s also very good at singing and math. He always helps me with my homework too.’ 

At some point he begins to ramble, parroting off a list of what Seungwoo means to him, of everything he’s good at, of how tall he is, ‘Grandma, you have to meet him you’ll love him like you love me I promise!’ Wooseok can’t see it, he really can’t even tell, but his grandma notices the stars in his eyes, the rippling pools of the Milky Way as his voice raises in delight.

‘I’m sure I will baby, if he makes you this happy.’ Says his grandmother, reaching up to ruffle his hair.

‘He will! I think he’ll make me happy forever and ever’, replies Wooseok, ‘There’s no way he’d make me sad. He’ll be with me forever probably, I’m not letting him leave me!’ Wooseok grins up at her, says it with so much conviction thrumming all the way to the lining of his shoes - because he means it. What reason did he have to think differently?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

**SEOUL, AGE 21**

Wooseok’s social circle had always been fairly nebulous, and why wouldn’t it be?

He was inarguably handsome and he wasn’t going to pretend like it wasn’t obvious. His eyes were big and doe-like, and while he was on the smaller side it only added to the air of elegance he carried. 

People gravitated towards him naturally the same way moths might to light, some inexplicable affinity Wooseok is too shy to admit exists out loud. He’s not necessarily quiet, he’s mastered the art of smalltalk and surface-level friendships, but he seems to always for some reason or another keep people at an arm’s length. He figures at some point it’s more of the idea that he’d rather not open up too much to people he wasn’t sure were going to stay. It’s a bit of a sore spot for him, a wound that's been slowly stitched together with threads of time, cauterized with the heat of warm tears on nights with only his pillows to keep him company.

It’s ironic really, how he supposes the thing that showed him the most beauty had been the very thing to leave the ugliest scar. 

It’s hard to trust, it’s still hard to fully open up - he guesses that part had stayed with him since high school.

Wooseok supposes though, he’d have to learn at some point right? He’s not impervious to change, he’s seen how people stagnate and rot away if they insist on passivity. Wooseok was never angry, it wasn’t his place to be, and part of him was grateful to have had someone who taught him what it meant to treasure and to be treasured- taught him security in steady arms and warmth in the rays of sunshine that bled out of liquid amber smiles, someone that gave him a sound definition of what it feels like to be in love. He just hadn’t expected the process to hurt so bad.

But, it’s in his moments of retrospect that he comes to think, as firsts go, what he got was even more perfect than he could have asked for.

If he knew what love was, it was all because of  _ Han Seungwoo. _

Wooseok will always be thankful to him for having appeared in his life, but some things just weren’t meant to be and no matter how much he wills for it to be different, it’s something he should’ve accepted long ago. Four years is a lot. He’s grown and he’s matured, he’s come to realize that life doesn’t stop for you because you’re heartbroken, the sun will still rise tomorrow and the Earth will keep rotating on its axis, it’s the inevitable passage of time. All the wishing, all the what if’s, they wouldn’t change how things were, or rather,  _ couldn’t  _ change how things are.

So one day, he gritted his teeth and picked himself up off the couch, pieced the scattered fragments of his heart back together with tape and glue, forced them together with sheer willpower even if they didn’t fit the way they used to, slapped a smile on his face and decided that he needed to get himself together, and it’s exactly what he did. 

The formal answer is that he’s okay, time numbs as much as it can. For the rest of it, well, he’s just learned to make a home in it.

Sometimes Wooseok still slips up, sometimes he -  _ insert Voldemort-esque he who shall not be named,  _ slithers in in moments of weakness and Wooseok wonders briefly how he’s doing, if he’s eating well, if the air in America is different, if maybe it was hard on him too - but, he always catches himself. It happens more often than he’d like, and if he were being honest, he still isn’t too sure how he feels. He thinks he doesn’t like it, but he can’t be positive. 

Because, even catching the slightest glimpse of him in tattered thoughts brings with it a sense of odd serenity. It’s the thought that maybe if he’s still shining bright and beautiful in his memories, he’d be doing the same in reality. He’d be living well, doing what he loves - just being happy, really. It’s all Wooseok hopes for.

After they graduated, Jinhyuk and him had been accepted to the same university in Seoul. Oh, the sweet, sweet taste of freedom and liberation. That, notwithstanding the fact that the distance between Daejeon and Seoul was a mere fifty minute train ride and his mother had enacted a mandatory ‘visit me every other weekend stipulation or I’m revoking your son privileges’ ultimatum. Mrs Kim was a scary woman, you either listened to what she had to say or it was the feather duster. On the more serious days it was the frying pan. 

She didn’t actually do anything with it but it was more of the threat of laborious physical strain the running away would put on Wooseok’s entirely unathletic physique of bones and flesh (in that order) as she chased him around the apartment. Nevertheless, Wooseok is thankful for the fortnight respite.

They’d spent their first year rooming together at the dorms and it wasn’t unpleasant so to speak, but Wooseok had felt certain pressure to live up to the expectations of university life. He’d spent the first couple months running around department mixers and getting so ridiculously plastered on weekdays he’d wake up with his head pressed face down to the bathroom tiles. It had felt like a farce, unnatural and awkward as he pretended to be sociable,  _ interesting  _ enough to hold a conversation without whoever he was speaking to realizing that he’d rather be anywhere but here. He was tired of not being able to go to the bathroom without having to be forced to exchange superficial pleasantries with Tony from down the hall or Minkyu from the room next door. He didn’t mind them really, but he didn’t know them well - he’d only met them both once; briefly at some club fair at the beginning of the year.

In fact, all his favorite past times had always been things he could do by himself - reading and gaming, ordering chicken feet and eating the whole portion on his own as he watched an episode of his favorite anime. It was just the kind of lifestyle he liked living, he enjoyed the solitude, he needed it to stay sane. 

This, in event, had culminated in a breakdown sometime around November, on one of the days a sane person would  _ know  _ was far too cold for a party. 

His department didn’t seem to share the same sentiment. 

He had been dragged out to a house in the middle of a district he had never set foot in only to have been left in a stuffy room thick with the musk of lukewarm sweat and epilepsy inducing party lights as randoms all around him took turns gyrating on a combination of the floor, the furniture, and each other. 

He’d panic-called Jinhyuk at a quarter to three in the morning to pick him up, just barely having found shelter under one of the retractable tables and boy - was he not doing great. 

It was fine. The next day he had gone to class pretending like everything was fine - annoyingly enough with a muffled voice in the back of his mind sounding a lot like a sunset, tickling his earlobes telling him to not push himself too hard.

In a way, it pissed him off. So he did what his unsalvageably argumentative self always did. He pushed himself harder. 

With freshman year came his first real relationship, the taste still bitter on his tongue. He had been nice in the beginning, crescent eye smiles and lovely manners as he opened doors and picked him up after class. His kisses tasted like toothpaste and he was unusually polite. But he wasn’t his, as much as he wished and he wished - it had felt shallow, ironically fitting in comparison to his entire college persona. He had loved the  _ idea _ of Wooseok, but he didn’t love Wooseok as he was.

It was a cold January evening when he’d gotten a text, a shrill little noise as his phone beeped. He’d dragged himself out from under his duvet and read the message. It was lackluster for a break up text- honestly. He’d come to expect cliff side hugs and teary proclamations laced in purple palettes fitting for parting colors of dusk. Overarching metaphors and impossibly fond sentiments that cling and cling and  _ cling,  _ y’know? But instead: 

**hey . sorry to do this to you over text but i don’t think it’s working out, I’m sure u know too. ur too closed off and it’s makin it hard to get to know u. still think ur hot y’know but u gotta give me a little more. it’s a relationship u know that means emotional too.. but hey no hard feelings right? we can still be friends **

Wooseok had established early on that this probably wouldn’t be a love story for the ages, but it still didn’t make him feel  _ good.  _ Especially since he was being forced to confront his own emotional detachedness that he’d been trying so hard to rectify. It was even worse because it wasn’t through some kind of poetic revelation but what was likely a stock breakup note stitched together from pieces of what he must assume come from click-baity sites like http://www.breakup_template_texts.com. 

So what had he done? He’d cried. Annoyingly enough over that medium good boyfriend turned asshole that wore sunglasses indoors and broke up with him over text. But it didn’t hurt, not like he knew it could. It was a one night kind of cry, he didn’t even have to break out the ice cream or order any consolation chicken feet. The next morning he was up and ready to go, more motivated than ever to move on to something else, maybe find something he genuinely cared about.

Which brings him to today, a week before the start of their second year at university: 

‘I have a higher win ratio you absolute  _ buffoon!  _ How dare you insult my Overwatch skills you moronic-‘ 

‘Oh yeah? Then why do you keep getting stuck with level 17 Genjis and Tracers who are still learning how to read the map and have no idea how to play the game? The algorithm knows you suck and that’s the real level you’re at! Boohoo, baby!’ Retorts Jinhyuk, shit-eating grin juxtaposing the shakiness of his legs as he balances the two cardboard boxes he’s holding - something akin to a platypus grandmother navigating through life. 

‘Why I oughta-‘ Hangyul starts, face pulled into one of seemingly genuine offense as he kicks in the general direction of the former. (It’s not like he’s tall enough to really see over the boxes he was carrying.) 

The two of them had met Hangyul at the first freshers event of the year, they’d found him round the back topless (duh) hanging from a poll propped up by a gnarly looking keg of what was probably previously filled with cheap beer and diluted piss. He looked sloshed out of his mind as he screamed something about being king of the jungle before doing a roundhouse spin and falling flat on the grass, face side up. It hadn’t felt right to leave him stranded there wriggling like an earthworm so they had brought him back to their dorm. Needless to say they had become fast friends - unsurprisingly really as the gift of painkillers and a cold glass of water the morning after when nursing a massive hangover produced gratitude like none other. 

He, like best friends ought to do following a couple rounds of whining, had agreed to help them move into the small apartment they’d rented around campus. But now, Wooseok was starting to think it was more of a mistake. 

‘If the two of you don’t stop comparing hypothetical video game dicks and realize there’s no point because you’re both losers we’ll never make it to the new place!’ Yells Wooseok, frowning at the two incels he calls his best friends.

‘Seokie, you’re no fun! Stop being such a buzzkill!’ Retorts Hangyul, catching himself as he stumbles over a pebble.

Wooseok scoffs, a teasing smile on his face as he declares, ‘I’d join in but we all know I’d kick both your asses two times over AND wearing a blindfold!’ 

‘Literally, shut up, Seok!’ Screams Jinhyuk, ‘just let me at you again and we’ll see about that!’ 

‘Bitter is not a good look on you,’ Teases Wooseok, sticking his tongue out. ‘But really - what is?’ Seeing the metaphorical cartoonish puffs of smoke billow out of Jinhyuk’s ears never fails to make him laugh. 

‘Just because you’re unfairly good looking that doesn’t give you the right to mock the less fortunate! Maybe if you had a few inches on you then we can talk - but now, not over six foot? No opinion!’

‘Hey!’ Protests Hangyul, ‘I’m not six foot either!’ 

‘That’s the point!’ Retorts Jinhyuk with a pointed look. 

The two continue to grumble at each other as they make their way to the apartment complex just across the street from where the taxi dropped them off.

Seeing the two of them huffing like madmen, Wooseok suddenly felt a surge of pride at how he had managed to charm his way into being allowed to carry the lightest box of them all - an easy feat really, a picture of innocence as he blinked his owlish eyes up at them, adding a tiny little pout for good measure. Prior to this they had already made a couple of rounds (with the same weight distribution) so what they were currently carrying was the last of their things. 

There’s absolutely no sugar coating it. The place they were moving into was not anything close to fancy, it was almost just inhabitable. Rent was cheap though so he wasn’t complaining. It was a blessing really, that they even managed to see the listing when they did. Procrastinators that they were, they had waited to the last possible second before they went hunting for apartments. They were lucky Jinhyuk’s friend lived in the same building and just so happened to bump into the super when he was cleaning out the room opposite theirs to put up a new lease. 

So a literal week later, here they were about to officially move into their new place. 

‘Hey, Jinhyuk, what was your friend’s name again? We definitely have to go thank him later on for tipping us off to this place.’ Asks Wooseok, wondering to himself how he had never asked before.

‘Oh, yeah- his name’s Byung-‘ His words die in his throat, swallowed by a yelp as he actually face plants onto the pavement. 

Nobody moves for a hot second as the scene unfolds before them. Hangyul breaks the silence first by barking out a laugh as he goes to help Jinhyuk pick everything up. 

‘Don’t say it!’ Yells Jinhyuk, unmoving from where he’s lying on the floor. ‘I meant to do that!’ 

‘You meant to embarrass yourself?’ Laughs Wooseok, a teasing smile in place. 

‘Go away, Seokie save me some dignity!’ Retorts Jinhyuk, lifting one arm to shake his fists weakly in the way Scooby-doo villains do when their dastardly plots are foiled.

By the time they hike up all the flights of stairs and make it to the apartment, they’re all tired, Hangyul’s sweat slicked hair is matted to his forehead as he drops the box onto the floor. Jinhyuk looks tired too, rubbing at his temples, before suggesting they go on a coffee run.

Wooseok, maintaining the fact that any form of physical activity no matter how menial will be his forever antagonist, decides to not go. He opts instead to settle himself into the comfort of their second hand stain-ridden sofa.

‘Want me to pick something up for you? An iced americano, maybe?’ Asks Jinhyuk, rolling his eyes at how much of a couch potato his roomate really is. 

‘Awww, a man after my own heart!’ Wooseok declares, hands on his heart, laughter on his lips.

Jinhyuk scoffs, ‘what heart? That shit’s probably pitch black from all the caffeine you consume- would rather eat flambéed grass thank you very much.’ 

Hangyul stifles a grin, ‘Wooseok getting roasted for once? Now that’s something we don’t get to see everyday!’ 

‘Just for that you are both treating me to the coffee or I’m never talking to you again!’ 

‘Yah, yah, Kim Wooseok fleecing us yet again! Who is surprised?’ Says Hangyul, throwing a cheeky little wink his way as he walks out the door with Jinhyuk in tow. 

It’s suddenly extremely quiet when they’re gone, and Wooseok lets out a sigh he hadn't known he was holding. How had so many years gone by so quickly? It wasn’t like he was old really, he knew that too - but time seemed to be going by much too fast for him to process. Here he was in  _ his  _ tiny apartment that felt infinitely too large sitting by himself cross-legged on the floor with boxes all around him. It seemed like just yesterday that he was still back home with his family, his old friends, snacking on chicken feet that his Seungwoo had braved hell and high water - i.e. the polar vortex of a snowstorm to get to him special delivery. Scratch that, his brain so vindictively supplies,  _ not  _ his Seungwoo. Anymore at least. 

He figures he should start unpacking to make things a little easier for everyone. Anything to stop his thoughts from wondering to what, or rather  _ who, _ it always inevitably did. 

It’s ten minutes after Jinhyuk leaves that a knock sounds from the door. Wooseok thinks it’s probably Hangyul who, scatterbrained as he usually was, left his phone or his keys.

Evidentially, fate, he surmises, has a funny way of showing you up when you least expect it. 

He opens the door and just - 

completely stops.

_ Marshmallow clouds scattered across powdered gold sunsets, red gummy bears, watercolor skies, dewdrops on rose petals.  _

_ Airplane smiles and monkey bars. _

Four years. Four bloody years and here he is standing in his doorway. 

There’s a sick twisting in his stomach, and it feels simultaneously like he’s been doused in a bucket of ice water and a vat of kerosene, or even like a stampede of elephants had suddenly decided to wreak havoc in his gut. His immediate knee jerk reaction is to drop the cardboard box he’s holding, and when the contents spill out all over the carpet with an obnoxious crash it doesn’t even phase him because all he can hear is the amplified thumping of his heartbeat reverberating in his ears as he tries to still the unconscious tremble of his hands.

Wooseok’s now moved to white-knuckling the door handle instead, gripping at it like it’s a life raft, locking his hand around it to ground himself and maybe control the stuttering of his heart. He wonders if it’s real life or if it’s another one of his painful sleepless dreams come to life that Han Seungwoo is here, standing in front of him, holding on to a Tupperware box filled with white radish kimchi.

It’s not a far cry to say a montage of his past memories rush in one after another, flickering back and forth, forth and back like an old film camera, the makeshift dam he’d built to keep his thoughts at bay collapsing at his feet and bursting out with the fury of a high tide. Wooseok’s mind is helpless to stop it as it picks and pries with a vice grip at all the emotions he’d thought he’d long since left in Daejeon.

He’s back on the ledge of the cliff again, seventeen and suffocating where he stands as the tears prickle at the corners of his eyes. Feelings he’d once surrendered to a gossamer breeze welling up again, cloying and scratchy in the confines of his throat. But this time he won’t cry, there’s no way. He’s not what he was then. 

Time, for once, has done its job. He’s over it, he really is.

The man in front of him has yet to see him but still is immediately ducking down, as kind, as chivalrous as Wooseok tries so hard to not remember, moving to pick up the box and gathering all the things that’d tipped out. 

‘Oh, this-‘ He hears his voice falter ever so slightly, still sounding as gentle, as melodious as ever, and sees the flickering of recollection that dawns on his features as  _ nimble _ fingers clutch on to a sketchbook that had fallen open - a lush landscape, a view of the city, a sun slinking into the night, the jimjibang in the corner, the familiar city market smack dab in the center. If Seungwoo squints he’ll see the deep scarlet that permeates the piece - artistic decisions ruled by passion, colors unconscious, hands automatic. Red for what? Crimson for hearts. 

Wooseok stiffens reflexively. He hopes he doesn’t see it. 

Seungwoo looks up, their eyes meet. Stars, sparks, something of that sort.

  
  


─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

  
  


‘Wooseok?’ He whispers, more to himself than really as a question. His eyes are wide as he scans him from head to toe, looking awed maybe? No, there’s no way. 

Seungwoo looks similar to how he does in Wooseok’s memories. More handsome maybe, he’s practically glowing. His skin is fluorescent like a light bulb, his eyes clear as daylight, disposition kind as ever. He’s grown taller, definitely. Broader too. His hair is a little different, longer and more boyish as it falls just above his eyes. He’s sporting rosy cheeks to match the rosy flush that dots his nose. He looks good - happy like he’d been kissed by the sun.

Way back when, Wooseok had come to terms with the fact that Seungwoo wasn’t the kind of guy you could take in whole, he had to be broken down, be seen in parts, pieced together and be left to marinate till one could finally come to terms with everything that he embodied. 

The all resounding conclusion to his epiphany had not changed. It was in fact, that Wooseok is royally screwed because - why, has his entire existence been doomed to eternally wear his heart on his sleeve, to bite back love on his lips and chase and chase and  _ chase  _ but never reach the one person he wanted to keep? The taste is bitter on his tongue like burnt caramel, a sweetness that once was.

He has a million and one questions and the way Seungwoo seems to be standing, shifting awkwardly on the balls of his feet as he wears a tentative smile - he does too. But, nobody speaks, a pin drops. The two of them stand there staring and each other, neither taking the initiative to say anything first.

Wooseok suddenly feels a wave of nausea, or headrush? He’s not so sure, but when had they ever been so awkward around each other? Not even when they had first met all those years ago and Wooseok had just swung himself off the monkey bars and chipped a bit of his front tooth. He supposes it’s natural. Four years is a long time, people change and grow apart - and yet, for some inexplicable reason, Wooseok’s own feelings seemed to linger like the after effects of a cold. 

It’s Seungwoo that regains his composure first. It always is he supposes. ‘Hi…Wooseok. It’s been a while.’ He says, still sounding something akin to windchimes.

Wooseok takes an icy breath that shakes his lungs. ‘Yeah it has.’ There’s a lump in his throat. ‘Seungwoo-hyung. How have you been?’ 

‘I’ve been good, yeah.’ He trails off, looking a little bit lost and blinking a couple times as if he’s still trying to process everything. Wooseok can relate. 

‘Here,’ Seungwoo breaks the silence again as he reaches out awkwardly, tilting his head and passing the sketchbook back to Wooseok. ‘It’s a lovely picture. You’ve gotten even better than I remember.’ He swallows thickly, before wetting his lips, looking unsure as his pupils dart all over the extremities of Wooseok’s face. There’s apprehension in his tone as he asks gently, ‘is this that clearing?’

‘Yeah, I mean it was so beautiful that I couldn’t really stop thinking about it.’

‘You went back there then?’ 

‘I did.’ Replies Wooseok, sounding a little more wistful than he would have liked to. ‘I go back a lot.’ Wooseok adds, ‘A really special person showed it to me so, I mean, I guess naturally it became special to me too.’ 

‘A really special person?’ Echoes Seungwoo, looking really sad all of a sudden, and Wooseok can’t seem to understand why but he knows his heart doesn’t like it. 

The silence that follows fills the vicinity with tension and Wooseok holds his breath, not knowing what should come next. Seungwoo straightens up a little bit and a small smile plays at the corners of his lips before he hands Wooseok the box of kimchi he was holding. ‘I came over to bring you some of Byungchan’s mom’s side dishes. He told me one of his friends was moving in next door and that we should probably bring some kind of housewarming gift.’ Seungwoo smiles and it feels so nostalgic. ‘I just, wasn’t really expecting it would be you. Don’t get me wrong! It’s great to see you again. I’m happy. I really am.’ The affirmation in his voice is steady, and Wooseok can tell he’s being sincere, the little dimple at the side of his smile playing coy as it makes a minor appearance. 

Wooseok doesn’t quite know what to do, torn between wanting to run and hide himself under his duvet and not wanting to part so soon. Before he knows it his voice moves on autopilot, for lack of brain to mouth synapse.

‘Did you…’ Wooseok stutters, heart in his hands, cotton in his ears, ‘want to come in?’ 

‘Really?’ Asks Seungwoo, eyes shifting with wariness.

‘Yeah, hey, come in. It’s a little messy but you can leave the box on the counter.’ Responds Wooseok, he’s not sure how he manages to get the sentence out - but he does. Thanking his lucky stars as he does it. 

Wooseok steps to the side to open the door up wider and let him in. 

It’s awkward, the silence is almost deafening, but that much is to be expected after so long he supposed. Never mind the history between them, it’s only natural to be at an impasse. After all, neither of them know what the other is like anymore, old jokes no longer hold the weight that they once did. Personalities change, mannerisms evolve - time does a lot. Sometimes too much.

Seungwoo leaves the box of kimchi on the kitchen counter top and Wooseok motions over to the couch as they maneuver through the stacks of boxes. It’s a little bit bittersweet he notes. The couch is small and Seungwoo sits a little too far apart - an indication that it was deliberate. Wooseok doesn’t even know why he cares so much - doesn’t know why his palms start to clam up and why his chest feels a little bit tighter. He tells himself that they’re not really anything anymore - not best friends, not even friends. Just like that he extinguishes the questions that burn hot on his tongue. 

Wooseok chances a glance at Seungwoo, fingers thrumming with longing for a time when he used to be able to reach out, wrap his arms around his broad shoulders and tuck his head into the junction of his neck. A time when he could push his bangs out of his eyes and be rewarded with a smile so blinding it’d burn solar flares into his irises. But he’s not allowed - the sun is too big and bright to be held. It’s meant for everyone. They are nothing but some strangers with memories. So he puts it past him, he wills himself to act normal, act normal like he was meeting a friend’s friend’s friend for the very first time. Because this is what it is isn’t it? 

Seungwoo catches him looking and his eyes curl into a smile. ‘So,’ he starts, voice foreign yet so painstakingly familiar, it startles Wooseok from his reminiscing, ‘you and Jinhyuk, huh?’ 

There’s a waver in his voice that Wooseok wills himself not to read too much into.

When he turns to look, Seungwoo’s smiling softly, eyes curling to match and Wooseok feels like he’s been smacked in the head with an overwhelming sense of deja vu. 

‘Hyung, that’s disgusting! He’s what? An overgrown manchild? Goliath on stilts? Never in a million years! We just figured since we’ve known each other for so long we might as well move into together - less complications.’ Wooseok explains, clearing his throat. He catches himself before he lets it slip that he was a little preoccupied loving someone else, but he’s too slow to stop the thought though. 

Seungwoo giggles at that, actually,  _ giggles _ and Wooseok wonders how after so long he still feels an irrepressible fondness bubble in his chest. ‘Wooseok, I’m like the same height as he is - are you calling  _ me  _ Goliath on stilts? An overgrown manchild?’ 

‘No!’ Wooseok immediately goes to correct, ‘and I mean if we’re getting technical about it - you’re like a centimeter shorter. So, let’s say the cut off point is a centimeter taller than you.’ Wooseok nods to himself like he’s satisfied with his own explanation - which he can’t lie. He is.

Seungwoo’s smile seems to widen at that, his nose scrunching like he finds Wooseok cute  _ or something,  _ to placate himself, Wooseok thinks it’s probably the  _ something _ . It’s not like it changes anything though because Wooseok’s heart still flutters at how handsome he’s become, the swarm of butterflies in his stomach and the stampede of elephants in his gut turning him inside out. One more move out of this man and Wooseok swears he seriously won’t be able to take it any longer. He just knows he’s smiling back like an idiot but God - does Seungwoo just bring it out of him. 

Seungwoo hums to himself, more thoughtful than anything else, ‘Just wondering is all. How have you been? What classes are you taking this year?’ 

‘Art, mostly. Still hoping to make it somewhere with it you know? I’ve been doing pretty okay on commissions though so I’m getting by. If worse comes to worst I could become a curator I guess.’ Answers Wooseok, chewing a little on his lip, ‘what about you? Are you in school?’

‘Yeah,’ Seungwoo chuckles, ‘I’m getting a degree in education! Only a little bit longer to go and I’ll be able to teach.’ 

‘Hyung that’s amazing! Wasn’t that your dream?’ Wooseok exclaims, unconsciously scrambling to hold onto Seungwoo’s hand, something like a habit of the past. He doesn’t think, it just happens. 

Seungwoo’s staring at where his hand is placed with a wistful look adorned on his face. There’s a humming bird in Wooseok’s chest, words on the tip of his tongue he can’t bring himself to say. Wooseok flushes a little in place, feels his cheeks heat up when he realizes and moves to pull away for fear Seungwoo might be uncomfortable. 

But Seungwoo, it’s not really a surprise he does no such thing. In Wooseok’s memories he was always warm, loving, affectionate. That clearly hasn’t changed. Instead, he flips his palm over to wrap his fingers around Wooseok’s hand. Seungwoo smiles back prettily, no semblance of discomfort in his expression, his eyes just shining with unadulterated warmth. 

‘It is - I’m just,’ Seungwoo trails off, ‘I wasn’t sure it would be possible you know? I just, I don’t think I would have had the courage to pursue it if not for the encouragement you gave me back then.’ He sounds sincere, too good and too true - just like he used to be, and the nostalgia is restless against the back of his mind. At least this is still the same.

Wooseok swallows the lump in his throat, looking up at him, ‘Hyung, I’m- I’m glad. I know we haven’t seen each other in a while but I’m always cheering you on, I always wanted you to be able to do what you love. I hope you know that.’ It comes out sounding much rawer than he ever intended for it to be and he hopes Seungwoo doesn’t catch how paper thin his voice is.

‘I’ve always been - am always still thankful for you. Always will be. I used to think a lot about what it was that you saw in me to believe in me so much. But I guess at some point I realised that’s just how you are. You see the best in people and you’re too forgiving - even if  _ some people  _ might not deserve it.’ Says Seungwoo, squeezing Wooseok’s hand that he’s still holding tightly and letting it rest on his lap. 

It’s not tension per say, but something’s changed, an annoying buzz that mists in the air, and Wooseok understands what Seungwoo means when he says  _ some people _ , like it was Wooseok’s place to be upset, like he should be mad at him. 

But Wooseok’s never thought like that, not for a second, not even for a moment. He could never blame Seungwoo and he would never want to. 

‘I don’t blame you, hyung…….I guess I just, I missed you a lot.’ Whispers Wooseok, still not really knowing what to say so he settles for the truth. What he does know is that his heart’s beating so fast it’s like it suddenly grew a pair of wings when he says it, it feels like it’s about to fly away - if the thumping against his ribcage is any indication. 

He doesn’t get a response right away and Wooseok is scared again that he’s somehow made things awkward or uncomfortable. He hates that this is their current reality and he’s scared to look up and face his feelings.

The response comes though. A silver lining that he clings on to for dear life.

‘I missed you a lot too.’

Wooseok looks up and he wants to cry. Seungwoo looks about the same, his eyes are a little red rimmed and glassy and his bottom lip is a little swollen as if he’s been biting it.  _ Why does he look so hurt?  _ Wooseok wonders to himself.  _ Why does he look so sad? It’s just me. _ It’s not worth it to be so upset over this? Because of him? 

‘It’s not your fault, hyung.’ Mumbles Wooseok, wanting to make it go away as he looks down again. ‘Please don’t apologize, I’m just as much to blame and, you don’t - you didn't owe me anything. I know that.’ He knows that and he doesn’t expect for it to change, he’s a little too heartsick, and any more hoping would shatter him.

Seungwoo flinches at his response, voice turning hard. ‘What if I said I want to? What if I said I want to owe you everything?’ Wooseok’s blood runs cold at his tone, it causes Wooseok to look up at him, knitting his eyebrows together in a confused frown. Seungwoo’s eyes are boring into his, impossibly dark as they swirl with a myriad of emotions. 

‘You want to?’ Questions Wooseok, wondering what he means by that. It couldn’t possibly be what he hoped -  _ hopes  _ for. 

‘You’re not going to ask me why I never called or texted? Why I’m here in Korea?’ Asks Seungwoo. He doesn’t extrapolate. He just waits for Wooseok to answer, thumb drawing shapes into the shell of his hands - all he had to do was shift his fingers and they’d interlock. 

Wooseok shakes his head, ‘Do you want me to?’

‘If you want to.’ Mumbles Seungwoo. He looks so much smaller than he is all of a sudden, hunched into his frame as he stares straight ahead. He looks visibly concerned, anxiety weighing down his brows.

‘Some other time, maybe.’ Wooseok hums, biting back the curiosity that stains his lips. He senses the impending conversation is going to be heavy and he doesn’t have the strength - nor the heart, to handle it today. He changes the subject instead, smiles into the tiny space of his shared apartment as he turns to look at Seungwoo. ‘Fate’s funny isn’t it?’ He says instead, ‘Guess this means we’re meant to be or something. Destiny type shit.’ Wooseok doesn’t intend for it to be a joke - but if it doesn’t go well at least he has a fallback plan in the setup. 

‘I’d hope so.’ Seungwoo says it with such clarity, and it knocks the air out of Wooseok’s lungs. Wooseok kind of has the urge to confess right then and there, to broadcast to the world just what he means to him. 

Wooseok smiles as he knocks his shoulders against Seungwoo’s and not so subtly scoots closer into his peripheral. ‘Are you staying in Korea for good?’ Asks Wooseok tentatively. 

‘I am.’ and really that’s good enough of an answer for Wooseok. He’s not leaving this time. 

‘I think,’ Seungwoo starts again, sounding nervous again all of a sudden, ‘and I’m not sure I’m allowed to ask this of you, and I wouldn’t want to pressure or force you or anything, but I would really like it if we could get to know each other again. To be like how we used to be.’ There’s a lilt of hopefulness to his voice and Wooseok wants to coo, he wants to cry, he wants to do it all. 

‘You would?’ He responds, biting down on his lips as his heart flutters in tandem. He’d been so starved of Seungwoo’s sweet sentiments and way of speech, he knows his face is flushing at the sudden recurrence. 

‘Of course,’ Seungwoo continues, ‘I know it might not have seemed that way since I never reached out, but I really cared - still care about you, and, I’d really like the chance to prove it to you. - only if you let me though.’ Seungwoo’s comforting scent is making him a little crazy, and Wooseok feels like he’s fighting gravity, the laws of physics, because he so desperately wants to close the scarce distance between them, lean into his space and fall into his orbit. 

‘I...I really care about you too, hyung. I always wanted to text but I was worried maybe you would be busy. But it’s fine now right? Since you’re here.’ Wooseok pauses, worrying at the lip as he wonders if he would say what he wants to say next. Call it adrenaline, call it brash stupidity or blind urges but he takes the plunge.

‘Can we, I don’t know, hug it out?’

And Seungwoo laughs at that, full bodied and thick. Wooseok had missed that. He stretches his arms wide open and Wooseok inches forward, wrapping his own tiny ones around Seungwoo’s torso, reveling in how it feels the same - like the four years never happened, like nothing ever changed.

Wooseok sags against him as he lets out a long suffering sigh, he can feel Seungwoo’s heartbeat, can feel the coolness of the tip of his nose as it presses into the pulse point on his neck and the warmth of his breath at the shell of his ear. It’s like their bodies were moulded together, made to hold the other and anchor them to their souls. 

It takes a little bit for Wooseok to acknowledge that the Seungwoo in his arms is  _ real.  _ Tangible. This isn’t like it is in his dreams when he wakes up to find himself alone in an empty bed with phantom arms around his torso.

‘So you’re saying, no - you’re confirming, that we’re going to be spending loads more time together right?’ Wooseok pouts it into Seungwoo’s shoulder, unconsciously pushing his face into the fabric of his shirt. It smells distinctly like Seungwoo, somewhere between a smoky sandalwood and a burnt amber with the sweetest hint of vanilla. 

‘Of course, Wooseokie - I just got you back, there’s no way I’m letting go.’ Murmurs Seungwoo as he rubs reassuring circles into the small of Wooseok’s back, sending bursts of sparks every time the pads of this thumbs run along the ridges of his spine. 

The words wrap around Wooseok like a cocoon, warm and comforting, it makes him feel like he’s sitting in front of a fireplace on a snowy day, a cup of warm cocoa in hand and snuggled against a plush wool blanket.

Seungwoo’s presence has always given him comfort and Wooseok knows now that it always will. It’s inescapable, woven into the fabric of himself, stitched into the linings, embroidered into the seams. Seungwoo has a home in his heart, he always had and always will.

To love is easier in theory than it is in practice - he wishes all the poets and the romanticists had prepared him for how much it would hurt, how painstaking of a process it was to gift his heart to someone else and let them take the reigns. With Seungwoo though, he knows no matter what he’d want to try again and again. 

They say your first love changes you. Wooseok doesn’t think so. His love has stayed constant, unchanging. Some might even say it was -  _ Agape.  _ Time trickles away with each grain of sand in an hourglass - he won’t lose Seungwoo again. Not to time and certainly not to fate.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Later on that night when Wooseok lies in bed he thinks about Seungwoo, thinks about how they’re starting over as friends and his insides feel all warm and fuzzy again and his head clouds over with memories of the past. He thinks about how he used to steal touches in between classes, how just a smile from him would change the course of his day, how they used to laugh during sports classes as Wooseok admired the sweat slicked hair that matted itself to Seungwoo’s forehead as they joked about how gatorade ran in Seungwoo’s veins. His thoughts stray of course, as they always do. He thinks about his lips, a plush, just bitten cherry red as he wills himself to push the thought into the far crevices of his mind.

_ That’s not how friends think about each other _ , his mind registers sleepily, friends don’t think about what it would feel like to press gentle kisses to temples, soft like the beating of butterfly wings, fatal attraction like moths to light, inevitable necessity of honeybees and nectar. 

But he does. And as his brain fogs with sleep’s calling, he loses his inhibitions.

He thinks about the speck of pink that dots the tip of Seungwoo’s nose on the colder winter days and wonders if other parts of him blush just as pretty. He thinks about his hands, big enough to hold his face in his palms, big enough to keep him safe. He thinks about his smile, mind-splittingly bright, splintering rays of sunlight as he warms Wooseok till his toes curl. His eyes, so helplessly kind - some days he can even delude himself into thinking he sees something akin to fondness, just a little bit short of love. 

and the phantom feeling of pressure in his heart is there again, making a home in his arteries, clogging his veins - sticky and thick as it fills to the brim. Inescapable, murderous - and yet, he relishes in it. 

All roads lead to one. He loves Han Seungwoo. He never stopped. He thinks he never will. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello im so sorry it took me so long i dont even know if people are going to read this since its been seven months but i definitely have another chapter left to write which I WILL get done, the only question is when!
> 
> twt: @2seungyulcat

**Author's Note:**

> im sorry... scream at me on twitter @2seungyulcat
> 
> i want to say i will write a second part but whether or not i actually commit is another question ::::) let me know if u have any suggestions tho and if u liked whatever horrible disjointed mess this was 
> 
> i kind of hate this but i was tired of hating it so i decided it had to go up


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